


Tortured

by CryloRen_IsAtItAgain



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Breathplay, Gang Bang, Gore, Hux is Not Nice, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Physical Abuse, Rape, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 08:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19787575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryloRen_IsAtItAgain/pseuds/CryloRen_IsAtItAgain
Summary: Captured by the First Order, Ben Solo manages to stay strong through months of torture. He refuses to give information vital to the FO's victory over the Resistance. General Armitage Hux decides to try a new method to break Ben Solo.





	1. Breaking Point

Ben grinned, teeth bloody, and the torturer punched him again. Their knuckles were wrapped in iron, and he felt a crack when their fist landed on his face. He spit. A stream of red dripped from his mouth, onto his bare chest. They’d stripped him a long time ago, and he had burns across his thighs. Some were weeks old, others brand new. He wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been since he was captured. 

Time moved differently in captivity. The days and hours stretched and steamed together. There were times of constant torture. Others of solitary confinement in a cold, dark cell. He wasn’t allowed clothing. He was barely given food. But he hadn’t broken yet. He wouldn’t. Ben lifted his head, and his lips slowly stretched into another smile. 

Violence. Pain blossomed across his face when the torturer hit him again. Blunt trauma seemed to be the focus today. Some days it was heat. Others cold. Knives, choking, physics strain. It seemed they’d tried almost everything on him. The point, of course, was to get him to reveal the location of the Resistance base. He would not. Ben would not bend to their whims, no matter what they did. 

His hands were tied behind him, shoulders strained a bit, and he was sitting on a glorified stool. His legs were chained to the ground, and each blow rocked the stool just enough that he worried it would fall. He was fairly sure that his cheekbone was cracked or fractured or something. Blood dropped down the side of his face, and his eye was beginning to swell. Another series of punches landed, but Ben was quickly becoming immune to the pain. Tuning it out. He spit out more blood from the side of his mouth, and his tormentor finally backed off. 

Ben watched with hazily unfocused eyes as they removed the metal cuffs from around their knuckles and began to wipe them clean of blood. The other torturers in the room shifted, standing. Ben felt his arms grabbed and he was hefted up from the stool and it was kicked away with a metallic clatter. “Imperial scum,” he said, then spit again, and the man holding him up dropped him. 

Ben’s knees hit the ground hard, pain reverberating through them, and he winced and resituated himself against the cold ground. The door across the room slid open with a hiss, and he looked up and stared in the direction of the new tormentor. He saw tall, leather boots first, then the black, course uniform of the First Order. A sleek, black jacket and red hair that was above a pale face. Ben was still trying to determine what this new person would do to him when a thin rope was wrapped tightly around his neck and someone yanked on the other end. 

It was apprently connected to a hook hanging from the ceiling, and when they pulled, he was lifted up into the air. He struggled, airway immediately cut off, and he kicked his legs desperately to try and free himself. His hands were still tied, though, and there was nothing he could do but desperately try to suck in gulps of air through his crushed windpipe. The man who’d entered now stared up at him, emotionless and cruel. He nodded, and Ben was suddenly dropped. 

His feet hit the ground, his right ankle rolled, and he fell to his side. Gasping, he wriggled and tried to free his hands, wanting to rip the rope away from his neck. This new torture was worse than the knives. His lungs burned in his chest, and his throat flared with the same pain. 

“Beg me to fuck you.” 

Ben lifted his head in confusion, thinking he must have heard wrong. The voice came from the man in front of him, with the sleek uniform and the red hair. Ben stared at him again, and this time, recognition flickered in the back of his mind. He’d seen this man before, on posters. General Hux of the First Order, designer of the Starkiller superweapon. He vaguely remembered watching his speech the day Hosnian and the system were destroyed. 

“Are you deaf? Beg me to fuck you.” 

He shook his head, baffled, and the rope tightened when they pulled on it, not enough to lift him this time, just enough to make it hurt. He stared at the man, his eyes widening, and his mouth turned up in a scowl. His nails bit into his palms, and he kicked his legs along the floor, trying to reach the general who was looking at him with derision. 

“Lift him again,” he said, and his voice was almost bored. Ben gagged loudly when he was suddenly ripped up from the ground again, held aloft in the air by the rope around his neck. Oxygen was immediately cut off, and he struggled desperately to not be held aloft. But the more he struggled, the more it hurt, and the harder it was to stay conscious. He wasn’t sure how long they kept him up this time, but when they dropped him, he didn’t even bother trying to catch himself on his feet. 

He slammed hip first into the ground, coughing as the rope loosened just a bit. He could breathe, and he pulled in ragged breath after ragged breath. Not breathing hurt badly, but somehow, breathing hurt even worse. He still did, though, there was no relief in it. 

“Beg me to fuck you,” General Hux said again, and Ben blearily tilted his head up to find the man again. Everything was beginning to run together. The grey walls blended with the black uniforms, and everything looked like slush around him. 

“No,” he said, moving slowly, and he shut his eyes to try and compose himself. Before he could even draw in another breath, he was dragged up again. 

His feet were at least seven inches above the ground, and he kicked desperately to try and find it, anything, anyway to get relief. His body felt so heavy when being held up by a thin piece of rope, and the rough fibers bit into his neck painfully. Ben eventually felt his consciousness start to slip, and he kicked a few more times before the edges of his vision blackened. He slumped, and after a moment, the man behind him dropped the rope again. He hit the ground, and it took his body a moment to catch up with what had happened. He gasped, writhing against the ground, coughing. Drool dripped from one corner of his mouth. A boot connected painfully with his side, and Ben let out a ragged screech. 

“Beg me to fuck you, now. Do it now, you rebel piece of shit.” 

“No!” He glared up, snarling, looking around for the sight of General Hux, but he couldn’t seem to focus on anything. The rope pulled him up again, and he spasmed. Weak, he couldn’t even struggle, and his mouth gaped like a fish out of water. His jaw went slack and more saliva dripped down his chin. His vision went entirely black for what seemed like hours, but could only have been seconds. He was dropped again, his body slamming into the cold floor. 

“Beg.” 

“Please…” He gasped a few times, a gravely sound coming from his throat which each inhale and exhale. He dropped his forehead flat on the floor, somehow rolled onto his stomach. He didn’t remember being pushed this way, or if he had landed like this after being dropped. His brain wasn’t caught up with his surroundings, but he didn’t want to be pulled up by the rope again. “Please…” He could barely speak. 

The same boot prodded at him, this time pushing at his head. “Not just please. Beg me to fuck you.” 

“Please…” He bit his lip, mind slowly starting to come back from the edge. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t. “Please don’t choke me anymore. Don’t hang me again.” 

The boot kicked into his shoulder, pain flaring at the impact point. Seismic waves of pain traveled through him, the epicenter throbbing. “One more chance. Beg me to fuck you.” 

Ben opened his eyes and stared down at the floor. He didn’t understand why this was being done, what this would accomplish. They wanted information out of him. He wasn’t sure why humiliation would get them what they wanted. But if this meant he wouldn’t be hanged to death, then he would do what Hux asked. 

He was about to speak again, but apparently he’d taken too long. The rope went taut and he was lifted up and hung above the ground again. He kicked and choked, body shuddering as his oxygen was again cut off. They kept him in the air for longer this time, and when he was dropped, Ben immediately started begging. 

“Please fuck me, General Hux, please fuck me!” His voice sounded rough, broken, and some words were barely audible. He took gasping breaths between phrases, but he kept speaking, unable to stop himself. “Don’t hang me, fuck me. Fuck me, General Hux, please, fuck me. Fuck me! I need you to fuck me, please fuck me.” Tears started coursing down his cheeks, hot and stinging against his skin, and his lips were wet with his own saliva. “Fuck me...fuck me…” 

“He’s asking nicely, isn’t he?” General Hux looked to the side at the man to his right, who nodded at him. The rope around Ben’s neck was removed, and someone dragged him up to his feet again. “Take him to that table and bend him over it.” 

“Wait, wha-“ Being jerked to the side made Ben go silent, and his attention was drawn to a table in the back of the room. He’d been strapped down to it a few times, sliced open, his arm nearly dissected. All apart of the torture. It was just low enough that he had to bend at a sharp angle go rest his chest on the surface. It chilled him to the bone. Ben struggled weakly, but hands held him down. He tried to twist his arms from the ropes, but they were tied much too tight. 

He heard a chuckle rise from the men around the room, and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He hadn’t worried about his nudity until now. It had never seemed like a sexual thing, just an easy way to torment him, to expose him to the elements. Now, men were smacking at his ass as they passed him by, and he felt two large hands spread his cheeks apart. 

“Since he was so good, let’s give him a bit of lubrication. Just a bit, though. We don’t want it to feel too good.” Hux’s voice across the room had taken on a sick delight, and Ben tried to turn his head to see the man, but he absolutely couldn’t. Something very cool dripped between his cheeks, and a finger began massaging it against his hole. Ben squirmed, lifting up a leg and trying to move away. His body was pinned by a massive man leaning against him, and his face was pressed firmly into his clothed crotch. Ben could feel his hardness straining and pressing against his cheek. 

The finger pushed some lube inside him, and he whined desperately and tried to move away. He got a few smacks to the thigh. The men were all gathering around him, watching, enjoying his torment. The finger pulled out, and that was it as far as preparation. He heard Hux’s boots move across the floor, four sharp clicks that spelled destruction. The torturers laughed as Hux unbuttoned his pants and began to press inside. 

It was terrible. His rim was stretched taut around the tip, but still Hux continued to push inside. Ben struggled fruitlessly, and soon there was a cock buried to the hilt in his ass. Tears started leaking down his face again, and he wouldn’t have been wrong to guess there was tearing. Hux’s movements started fast and strong, and Ben had to guess he’d already been hard from watching him be strangled. 

His ass was smacked a few times as Hux raped him, and Ben shut his eyes in shame as men whistled obscenely. The general himself dug his nails into Ben’s ass cheeks and pried them apart. “Look at the new fuck doll. He takes cock so well.” Ben didn’t think he was taking it well at all. His ass felt torn and raw. Each moment was filled with pain, and he gasped when Hux sped up more. 

The man holding him down shifted back, and more hands came to press his body flat to the table. His face was freed for a moment, and he heard a zipper go down, fabric rustling, a thumb pried his mouth open, and Ben gave a pathetic whine as the man forced his cock into his mouth. He was big. Huge. It hurt. 

A haze of pain and fear enwrapped him, and Ben felt his brain shutting off as his eyes closed again. Used, abused, his body was given to the men for pleasure, and in doing so, they broke something intrinsic inside him. Ben hadn’t felt hopeless since being captured. He hadn’t felt broken. Not until now, as a cock pushed far enough back in his throat that it was hard to breath. 

It was continuous. It was excessive. Ben’s head was held still as his throat was violently fucked. Saliva dripped from his mouth, and he gagged each time the cock hit the back of his throat. Behind him, Hux was groping his ass and moving faster as well. Within minutes, he felt semen in his throat, and he was forced to swallow it all. Coughing, Ben dropped his head as soon as the torturer pulled out. Hux came as well, making him twitch as hot cum pumped into his ass. 

The men dispersed, some laughing at his state, and others just walking out of the room. He could hear the door swishing open. Slumping to the ground, Ben cried as blood and cum dripped down his legs. He felt a boot against his side, pushing him over into his back. “Don’t worry,” he said. Looking up, Ben stared at Hux, who bent down low and grinned at him. “This is just the beginning for you.” A kick to the head sent him spiraling into unconsciousness. 


	2. No Mercy

The training space had clearly been converted specifically for this. Ben had his arms tied behind his back as he was paraded into the room. Two men had tight grips on his arms, and they dragged him further into the large space. It was his first time out of the torture chamber since he’d been captured. 

The room was clearly a gym. There was equipment on the edges, all of it having been moved to make room for the large bondage contraption in the center. Ben was dragged over to it, and he watched with bated breath as Hux turned away from the stormtrooper he was addressing and those cruel, grey eyes fell on him. “Are you ready, you scum?” 

He reached a gloved hand over and grabbed at Ben’s chin. He tilted his head this way and that, examining the bruises on his pale skin. “You look pretty when you’re wrecked. Let’s make it worse, shall we?” 

Hux dragged him over to the contraption by a grip in his hair. Ben weakly followed, and as he got closer, he studied the hard metal with a drop of nervousness. It was on some sort of platform, and both sides had metal cuffs for his limbs. His head was clearly supposed to fit through a collar that was attached to the top of the main segment. Ben found himself stepping into the platform, and the two guards who’d dragged him here, tightened the metal cuffs around his ankles. Hux walked around to the other side and pulled him down, his waist now fitting perfectly into a molded half circle, and the top segment was brought down over the top of him. It was tight around his waist, holding him completely still. His arms were untied and restrained by the cuffs below him, and the collar was slipped over his head. It kept his head up straight, and if he tried to drop it down, he would essentially choke himself.

Within seconds of being in the bondage device, he felt discomfort. It wasn’t anything entirely out of the realm of normalcy, but the angles his body were kept at were just unnatural enough to cause strain. Hux grinned at him, then slapped him hard across the face. “Look at you,” he said, chuckling darkly. “So...I guess I can give you one more chance to tell me where the Resistsnce is, scum. Before I let the ‘troopers have their time with you.” 

Despite his predicament, Ben kept his mouth shut. Even though Hux had broken him, he couldn’t reveal their location. At this point, it had been months and months since his capture. The Resistance had probably moved on. But he didn’t want to take that risk. Hux waited only a second before calling for the doors to be opened. 

Ben couldn’t turn his head to look at what was behind him. But he recognized the sound of dozens of boots hitting the floor as a group walked toward him. He squirmed a bit, earning himself another slap from Hux. He just stared at him disdainfully, watching as one of the other torturers brought him another device. This one was slipped over his head, and the large, rounded metal bit went into his mouth and lodged back behind his teeth. It kept his mouth open wide, and Ben shook his head a few times, trying to dislodge it. 

Behind him, the platform creaked as someone stepped up behind him, and he whined loudly to voice his displeasure. It didn’t matter, though. His ass was penetrated by a hard cock, and he heard the man behind him muttering curses under his breath. 

“Watch the pet and make sure he behaves,” Hux said, looking to the other torturers. He gave Ben a pat on the head, much too familiar for his liking, then he headed out of the gym. Hux watched him go until he was out of sight, tears already pricking in his eyes. He didn’t know what this was, or what the point was. Why had Hux singled in on him to sexually torment? If he thought that would get Ben to reveal where the base was, he was wrong. Ben couldn’t betray his people. He repeated that mantra in his head the entire time the man raped him from behind. He pulled out and came on his back, splatters of hot release on Ben’s skin. Blinking, Ben refused to cry. It hurt more than he could express, the tearing of a cock into his unprepped, unlubed ass. Another cock shoved in soon after the first departed. 

Tears leaked from his eyes, and Ben tried to shift in the bounds. He found it was nearly impossibly to move without pulling awkwardly at something and hurting himself. He was essentially helpless as cum filled up his ass and dripped down his legs. The next man stepped onto the platform and began his turn. “Someone come and take his mouth,” one of the torturers called, and soon Ben found someone in front of him, a cock pushing into his throat. He gagged around it, but again, he was helpless to their whims. He sobbed openly then, letting his despair be known. The way the man came down his throat soon after led Ben to believe they enjoyed it. 

Hours passed. The assaults continued one after the other. Ben found himself tired, in pain, and he couldn’t even cry anymore due to sheer exhaustion. His ass was spanked to get him to perk up, because a limp body wasn’t as fun as one that resisted, even with what little he could actually do. “How much fun are we allowed to have?” someone asked. 

“As much as you want.” 

More abuse came in the stead of a beating. A man hit his ass over and over again with something hard and flat. He didn’t know what it could be, but it felt like metal. Another two stepped forward and took turns punching him in the face. He ended up spitting blood, his nose broken and bent to one side. A rod was shoved deep into his ass, and he felt blood dripping down his legs. 

“Where’s the base, little bitch? Where is it?” He didn’t speak, and a man slammed a rod down against his back. Apparently the torturers had given them other objects for his torment. The stormtroopers were vicious. At one point, he’d felt bad for these people. Kidnapped, enslaved, brainwashed. But there was no mercy here. A cock fucked his bloody ass, and Ben finally broke down. He tried to speak around the ring gag, but he couldn’t talk until someone unclasped it and let it fall to the ground. 

“Felucia, Felucia, Felucia. The base moved to Felucia after Starkiller was destroyed!” He sobbed, realizing that he’d just given it up. He’d failed. When he was captured, Ben promised himself he would die before revealing the base. But he’d never seen this kind of torment as a possibility. 

The men around him laughed, pulling away, and one of the torturers walked up onto the platform and squatted so he could look him in the eye. “We already found the base on Felucia. About a month ago. But I’m glad that you finally saw sense.” He patted Ben’s cheek, and he stared in horror. He choked in surprised, letting his head fall down. The collar dug into his neck, strangling him, and his hair was grabbed to pull his head back up again. He could hardly believe it. All of this was for...nothing. 

No. Not for nothing. For Hux’s sick enjoyment. He glanced up again, his eyes searching for the corners of the gym, and sure enough, there were security droids poised in each corner, taking live video footage of everything that happened. He could just imagine Hux’s sick smile as he watched Ben gang raped and sodomized.

The restraints on his wrists and ankles were undone, and the collar came off. When he was let go from the bondage device, he merely fell against the ground. Cruel laughter echoed around him, and two men grabbed his arms and dragged him from the room. He didn’t even bother trying to stand, his legs limp as they were dragged along the ground. His ass bled, leaving a red streak behind him. 

They took him to medical ward for the most rudimentary of care. All they wanted was to make sure he would survive for whatever tortures were to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter will include more Hux/Ben directly, but this is an important step in Ben's breakdown.

**Author's Note:**

> Some tags are for future chapters, and I will also update the tags as I go.


End file.
